Working on That
by Aerial312
Summary: A tag to 9x11, "Newborn King".  Tony and Ziva discuss the recent events while at Leyla's on Christmas.


Tony stood at the far end of the living room with Ziva, watching Gibbs slide Leyla's couch out of the way so that Amira could have a quick try on her new bike. He felt a little out of place. At least Ziva was there too. That was a nice surprise. She hung back too, leaning on the doorway to the kitchen. Gibbs knelt down and put the helmet on a smiling Amira's head. Safety first, even for a twenty foot long ride through the living room and down the hallway.

Leyla was grinning broadly, holding her phone out to take pictures. "Oh! I need to start the pilaf, or it will not be done when the lamb is." She lowered her phone with a sigh, and started for the kitchen.

"Stay," Ziva told her. "I can take care of it."

"I was going to make muhammar, because I thought it would go well with the meat. Everything's out on the counter."

Ziva nodded. "I love muhammar." She slid out of the room, and Tony followed. "You could not get out of there fast enough," she noted.

"It's not…" But he cut himself off, because really she was right. "I didn't know I was coming until about twenty minutes ago—"

"Gibbs told me last night that you were coming," she told him.

"And he told Leyla last week," Tony chuckled wryly. "But I didn't know until I showed up at Gibbs house as he was heading out the door twenty minutes ago. So I didn't bring anything."

"That is what is bothering you?" Ziva asked as she filled a saucepan with water and put it on the stove.

"I would have liked to have brought a little something for the kid," he leaned against the fridge with a sigh.

Ziva had busied herself mixing several spices. "Leyla did not expect anything."

He shrugged, and silently watched her cook for a little while. As the water came to a boil, she poured in the rice. "Set the timer on your phone for 8 minutes."

"I thought rice took a lot longer than that," he questioned, while doing as she asked.

"It's just parboiling it. It cooks the rest of the way after," she explained, as she retrieved a skillet from the cabinet and pushed him out of the way to get into the fridge.

"Ah…" he lapsed into silence again, just watching her cook. It was oddly comforting. After a while, he noted, "I didn't realize you were going to be here. You don't celebrate Christmas."

"Neither do Leyla and Amira."

"Huh." He hadn't thought of that.

"She does, however, enjoy spending time with family and friends, and since everyone is off on Christmas—"

"Usually."

"Usually," she conceded. "We got most of the day off."

"What time did you get home?"

"We left Emma at the hospital around 5am."

"Did you get checked out by the doctor?" he asked. The night before when she'd called him to let him and McGee know that they were headed back so they could turn around, she had briefly recounted what had gone down, and he wanted her to see the doctor. They were going to the hospital anyways.

"I told you last night, I am fine."

"You didn't hit your head?"

"No," she assured him.

"Or anything else?"

She was silent for a minute, the only sound the butter sizzling in the pan.

"Ziva?"

"I'm a little bruised from getting pushed back into the counter, but it's nothing. Just sore."

"How bad?"

"Not bad."

His line of questioning was cut off by his cell phone beeping. "The eight minutes are up."

She drained the rice, and mixed in a few of the spices she'd been preparing. Then she dumped the whole mixture into the skillet and poked holes in the mound with the bottom of the spoon. After settling the cover on, she turned to look at him. "It is a superficial. My ribs do not feel bruised."

He sighed. It pained him that she'd been injured so many times that she could make pronouncements like that. She continued to study him for a moment, before turning and lifting the back of her grey sweater just enough for him to see the bruising briefly, then lowered the hem again and face him. There were a few muddled purple blotches on the otherwise smooth skin of her back, but she was right, they didn't look that bad.

"Okay," he admitted. "So how come you got to go all badass on the bad guys and Gibbs delivered the baby? You didn't want to give that a try?"

"I was ready to, but she asked for Gibbs. He was going to go take care of the guys, but she really wanted him to stay," Ziva shrugged.

He leaned against the edge of the kitchen table, staring idly at the rice dish cooking. Ziva crossed in and stood beside him, arm pressed against his. Without looking over at her, he could tell that her eyes were trained on him. "Something else is troubling you."

"I…" He what? Felt lonelier than ever at Christmas time? She knew that without him having to tell her. Patiently, she waited for him to continue. "I drove over to see Wendy and her kid."

"It did not go well?" she asked.

"I didn't go in."

"Why?"

"Because that's a chapter of my life that has closed!" he shouted. "Why are you so gung ho for me to rekindle a relationship that ended almost a decade ago?"

She took a breath, then answered simply, "I don't like to see you feeling so lonely."

He scoffed loudly.

She spun to stand in front of him, one hand on each arm. "I don't."

Her eyes were locked on his. He couldn't look away, no matter how tough this was. "She wasn't right for me. Maybe back then she was, but not now."

"What is right for you now?" she asked, leaning in closer.

That question was dangerous territory, made more dangerous by her standing so damn close. It would be so easy to just lean down… "Still working on that," he murmured, still not breaking the gaze.

She rose up on her tiptoes, and laid her lips very softly, very sweetly on his, then pulled back and looked at him. She had just kissed him. She'd taken that step. They continued to stare at each other, and he was just about to finally bite the bullet and lean in again when ruckus in the hallway broke them out of the trance.

Ziva took a deep breath, and stepped over to the stove, still smiling as Amira came barreling into the kitchen on her new bike, followed closely by Leyla and Gibbs. He couldn't break his own grin either. This was definitely a step in the right direction.


End file.
